Lady Sarah's Sinful Desires (20 page)

W
hen Sarah awoke the following morning, she rose quickly, padded across the carpet and flung open the curtains to reveal a day bathed in sunshine, with a blue sky overhead.

After finishing her toilette, she exited her room to find Juliet reclining in one of the armchairs that stood in the sitting room. She was busily reading a book, though she immediately looked up in response to Sarah's arrival. “Good morning,” Sarah said, incredibly pleased to find her sister just so. There was something reassuring about it—­a familiarity that struck Sarah as comforting in the way most things associated with pleasant childhood memories tended to do.

Juliet smiled sweetly, while her book dangled from her fingers, the author's voice momentarily suspended. “Hester is seeing to Alice's hair at the moment, but she should be ready shortly. Will you join us for breakfast?”

“I'd be delighted to,” Sarah said. “To be honest, I'm feeling quite famished.”

But regardless of how hungry she was, Sarah could barely get through the meal fast enough, even though she was reluctant to leave before her sisters were finished eating as well.

“We were thinking of going for a ride a little later,” Alice said as she sipped her tea. “Lady Fiona says the shops in the village are rather quaint and worth a visit. She's offered to take us. Perhaps you would like to come too?”

“It's very kind of you to consider me,” Sarah said, “but there are a few things I'd like to see to today.”

Her sister was not afforded the opportunity to ask about the specifics regarding these
things,
since Lady Fiona, Lady Laura and Lady Emily arrived in the dining room at that moment and immediately joined the group. “I don't suppose you've seen Spencer yet,” Lady Laura inquired once she'd filled her plate with toast and bacon. “He's usually an early riser, and since he's quite the expert on the Greek epics, I thought I'd ask him if he can think of a reference for me to use in the novel I'm writing—­something to do with love everlasting.”

“What about Penelope and Odysseus?” Sarah offered.

“I considered them myself,” Lady Laura said, “but I was hoping for something less obvious. Everyone knows about Penelope and Odysseus . . . it's just too predictable.”

“You have a point there,” Lady Emily said. “If you're looking for a more obscure reference, I'm sure Spencer will be able to help you. My own knowledge extends only as far as the myths portrayed in paintings, which aren't all Greek.”

“I confess I won't be much help either,” Sarah said. “When it comes to Greek epics, I've only read the beginning of
The Iliad.
My interests have always drifted more toward Shakespeare and Fielding.”

“I wish I had the patience to write a novel,” Alice remarked. “What is yours about?”

“Well,” Lady Laura said as she casually stirred a spoon of sugar into her tea, “my heroine is a very willful young lady—­a hoyden, to be exact. My hero, of course, falls madly in love with her because of how different she is from the other women of his acquaintance, even though his family is quite opposed to the idea.”

“It sounds terribly romantic,” Juliet sighed.

“Oh, I assure you it is,” Lady Laura said, “and a vast improvement on my attempt at writing a gothic novel. After reading Polidori's
The Vampyre
last year, I thought I'd attempt something similar. Eventually I had to admit I lacked the flair for that sort of style. I'm far more comfortable with my current work.”

“I look forward to reading it,” Sarah said. Noting that Lady Duncaster had arrived, she excused herself to the Heartlys and to her sisters, wishing them a pleasant ride to the village, and made her way over to the buffet table, where the countess was eagerly selecting a piece of apple pie. “Good morning,” Sarah said, siding up to her.

Lady Duncaster turned at the sound of Sarah's voice, her eyes brightening and her cheeks dimpling as she smiled. “Why, Lady Sarah. How good it is to see you again. Will you join me for breakfast?”

“I'm afraid I've already eaten, my lady, but I was hoping to ask a question of you. Lady Newbury and I were discussing the possibility for an egg and spoon race. I was wondering if she might have mentioned it to you yet.”

“Actually, she did ask me about it when I passed her in the hallway earlier. Sounds like a marvelous idea to me. Shall we see if we can manage to do it tomorrow? After all, we're having the ball on Saturday.”

“Quite right,” Sarah said. She watched Lady Duncaster fill her plate, then said, “I realize this is short notice if we're to have the race tomorrow, but I was thinking that it could be fun to consider other events as well where contestants can win prizes. I'd be happy to help with ideas.”

“You're suggesting a game day?”

“Well, yes. I suppose I am. If it's not too much trouble.”

“I think it's a splendid idea, Lady Sarah. Perhaps you and I can discuss the details after breakfast so I can inform the servants?”

Agreeing that they would meet in the blue parlor half an hour later, Sarah left the dining room in search of some paper and a quill for taking notes. She then headed toward the blue parlor. She'd just entered the room when a soft voice spoke her name. Turning toward it, she saw Lady Mary coming toward her with hesitant steps. “Lady Sarah,” she said, her eyes straying from Sarah's as if to ensure that they were alone, “I was hoping to speak with you in private for a moment.”

“I was just awaiting Lady Duncaster,” Sarah said. “Perhaps you'd like to keep me company until she arrives?”

“Thank you. I'd appreciate that a great deal.”

Saying nothing further until they were both seated on a light blue sofa, Sarah waited for Lady Mary to broach the issue she wished to address, but when she held silent, Sarah eventually said, “It's a long time since we've seen each other. I hope you'll forgive me for not writing as I told you I would, but with Grandmamma's passing so soon after my first Season, life was turned upside down for a while. Eventually it seemed too much time had passed, given our brief acquaintance.”

“It's quite all right,” Lady Mary said. “You're not the only one to blame for our lack of communication these past two years, since I could just as easily have written to you, but my own life took a turn when Papa was named the new governor-­general to India and he and Mama traveled there. It was decided that I should remain here with my aunt, since I'd have a better chance of finding a suitable husband in England rather than abroad.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, Aunt Eugenia prefers to avoid large crushes, so I'm pleased with her decision to spend the summer here, as it allows me the opportunity to meet other ­people.”

“And to find a potential husband,” Sarah suggested with a knowing smile.

Lady Mary's eyes widened. “That is what I wish to discuss with you, since I know how it must have appeared to you and Lord Spencer when you saw me hurrying through the garden at dawn the other morning.”

“At least you were alone,” Sarah told her. “The same cannot be said about me.”

Lady Mary nodded. “I confess I did wonder about that later. Eventually I decided that he must be courting you.”

Sarah shook her head. “We're just friends, so I would appreciate your discretion. If you would please refrain from telling anyone that you saw us outside alone together, I'll avoid any mention of seeing you.”

“I would be ever so grateful,” Lady Mary said.

Placing her hand reassuringly over hers, Sarah said, “I'm glad we had this conversation, for I truly do believe the two of us can be fast friends, and if there's ever anything you'd like to discuss with me—­anything at all—­you may rest assured that I will never judge you.”

Lady Mary sighed. “You're very kind to say so, but—­”

“Lady Duncaster,” Sarah said, noticing the countess had appeared in the doorway and wishing to warn her friend from saying something she might regret. “I ran into an old acquaintance of mine in the hallway and invited her for a chat while I awaited your arrival. Have you met Lady Mary?”

“Oh yes,” the countess said, “though it's a long time ago. Her grandmamma was a dear friend of mine. You parents are in India now, are they not?”

“Yes,” Lady Mary said. “I am visiting Thorncliff with my aunt.”

“That's right,” Lady Duncaster said with a thoughtful nod. “Now that you mention it, I do recall seeing Lady Foxworth at dinner. Always was a bit of a bluestocking, that one. Does she still have a penchant for mathematics?”

Lady Mary chuckled. “She's tutoring me, though I fear my skills, or lack thereof, are a great disappointment to her.”

Lady Duncaster snorted. “Never mind. I'm sure you have other interests that she would be equally inept at. That's the beauty about differences.”

“Yes,” Lady Mary murmured, drawing Sarah's attention to her flushed cheeks. “I'm sure you're right.” Rising, she added, “If you'll both please excuse me, I know you were planning a private conversation, so I'd hate to intrude. Besides, my aunt did say she was hoping to take a walk down to the Chinese pavilion with me—­apparently the architecture there has some geometric elements she'd like to explore.”

“Well, I've no idea about that,” Lady Duncaster said. “I had it built solely on the basis of its esthetic qualities and the memories it provides me of my travels to China with my late husband.”

“Regardless of its purpose, it looks like a most impressive structure, even at a distance, so I'm looking forward to getting a closer look,” Lady Mary explained.

As soon as she had departed, Lady Duncaster said, “She's such a lovely young lady, though I do believe she could benefit greatly from your acquaintance, Lady Sarah. She's far too timid and . . . nervous. A bit of confidence would do her a world of good.” Then, without waiting for Sarah to offer a response, she dove straight into the subject they were there to discuss by saying, “Do you suppose we could also have a pie eating contest tomorrow?”

“That will probably be very messy,” Sarah said, considering it. “I think it's a wonderful idea!” She made a note of it on the paper. “Perhaps a balance beam could also be placed on the lake. The ladies won't want to compete in such an event, but I'm sure they'll be amused to watch the men trying to stay dry.”

“Why, Lady Sarah,” Lady Duncaster mused, “how positively mischievous you are. Whoever would have thought?”

Sarah grinned. “I hope you'll tell me if I go too far.”

“No need for that, my dear.”

“Right. I'll make a note of it then, along with the egg and spoon race, which I'm rather looking forward to myself. A three-­legged race will also be popular, and for the children we should definitely have blindman's bluff.”

“What about an archery contest?”

“Archery? Don't tell me you have a secret stash of bows and arrows.”

Lady Duncaster shrugged. “It's not so secret really. In fact, I was quite fond of the sport when I was younger.”

“You're not afraid of someone getting hurt? Unless the contestants are experienced archers, I fear it might be too dangerous.”

“Not if we use dull arrows,” Lady Duncaster said as she clasped her hands together with eager excitement. “We'll award points on the distance traveled.”

Sarah was still skeptical about it, but Lady Duncaster seemed quite determined to have her idea brought to fruition, so Sarah wrote it down.

Picking up her teacup, Sarah took a slow sip. “There's something else I'd like to ask you as well,” she said. “I was wondering if I might impose upon your cook one day.”

“Is there something specific you'd like her to make?”

Sarah paused for a moment before saying, “Lord Spencer mentioned that he was introduced to a dessert called
choux à la crème
during his travels in France—­a sweet pastry filled with some sort of custard. He said it was one of the tastiest things he's ever tried, and upon his return to England, he described it to his parents' cook in the hope she could replicate it. Unfortunately her efforts did not achieve the result Lord Spencer was hoping for.”

“Is it fair to assume that the Oakland cook is English?”

“She is indeed.”

“And you think because mine is French she'll be more successful?”

Setting down her teacup, Sarah nodded. “Perhaps she knows what a
choux à la crème
is, which I daresay would be a good start.”

“Well, you're welcome to ask her, my dear, and if she does know, then by all means have her make some. I love trying new food.” Her eyes held Sarah's. “Seems to me you're growing increasingly fond of Lord Spencer.”

A flush rose to Sarah's cheeks. “Yes, I am.” She would not deny it.

“I can tell from the way you look at each other. It's quite apparent that he's very fond of you as well.”

“Not only is he a perfect gentleman,” Sarah said, “he's also extremely thoughtful and entertaining to talk to. We have the most engaging conversations.”

“Better than the ones you have with Mr. Denison?”

“Forgive me,” Sarah said, feeling somewhat disloyal. “How terribly ill-­mannered of me to praise Lord Spencer when I should be complimenting Mr. Denison.”

Lady Duncaster waved her hand dismissively. “My dear, you would have to be blind not to appreciate Lord Spencer's charms. Let's face it. Mr. Denison hardly compares, which is why I'm all the more sorry for your determination to marry him.” She paused as she regarded Sarah with a knowing expression. “My husband was also the most wonderful man I ever met.”

“I never said—­”

“Oh, Lady Sarah. You didn't have to. It's in the way your eyes sparkle whenever you speak of him.”